Feeling a thin layer of sweat form on my cold forehead, I stare out of the cracked windshield with a terrified expression. My car, having just crashed into another car, is now teetering off the edge of a cliff, which, if fallen down, would surely be fatal. I seem to be paralyzed-my hands are glued to the steering wheel and my lungs can do nothing but twitch. My heart beating icy blood through my stiff veins, I blink three times. The entire world is holding it's breath. My car can not fall. It can not.

"Hey, are you alright?" a voice asks from only feet away. I turn, which comes as a shock to me because my entire body feels paralyzed. A man who appears to have come from the second car is coming toward me. His steps are wary; he knows I'm sitting on a narrow edge. "Damn, I really got your car in a jam. It's a shame this road had to run by such a steep ledge."

I gulp. I want to say something to him, but the words just aren't coming. My stomach has raised to my throat and is blocking my air vent.

The amiable man stops in front of my door and inspects the damage. "Well, if we're careful, I think we can get this car door open and get you out before something worse happens. Hey, are you hurt? What's your name?"

"Danielle," I say. The gears in my head begin to turn, slow and steady. My vision focuses on the shattered window beside me. Just below it is the silver door handle. I feel like I can hear it whispering my name through the piercing night air.

"Okay, Danielle. I'm going to put a hand on the window sill and hold it in place while you unbuckle your seat belt. Then I'll reach in and open the door for you so that you can get out, okay?" the man says, his trusting eyes gazing into mine. I nod quickly. He smiles and places a firm hand on the window sill, but I immediately regret trusting his plan. The window is shattered. Like, shattered. Bits of slicing glass are still sitting on the edge of the sill. As I reach down to unbuckle my seat belt, my eyes trained on the man's stern hand, he lets out a cry. His hand has been cut by the glass. Tearing his hand away from the sill and glaring at it, he allows the car to slide further down the cliff.

I gasp, feeling the rocks beneath the car begin to roll and tumble. The shakes below me grow larger until I can feel the gravity in my seat begin to change. I yelp, yanking on the door handle. The door opens, but my belt is still buckled. "Help me, hold the door open!" I manage to shout before clicking the seat belt off. The man is too late to react. The car is sliding and the door is closing and I am still in my seat. "Fuck," I say, but the breath is quickly pulled from my chest. The car is falling.

Although I feel like I can not breathe, I can hear myself screaming. Blood rushes to my head, but it's no use. No matter what happens, I know this is the end. Bracing myself for the explosion that is to come, I clench my eyes closed, tears rolling down my cheeks, and hold my grip on the arm rest as tight as I can manage.

There is a crash, and then there is silence.